


Being With You

by ChampagneSly



Series: Blue Tulip Verse [8]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-05
Updated: 2012-10-05
Packaged: 2017-11-15 17:08:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/529588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChampagneSly/pseuds/ChampagneSly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sentimentality, romance, smut and the office couch. Blue Tulip-verse</p>
            </blockquote>





	Being With You

Francis had long been accustomed to being desired, to having men touch him as though they couldn’t get enough, as though there would not be another opportunity to slip a thigh between his legs or brush a hand down the long arch of his back. He made a career out of covetousness, so it came as a surprise, a thrill as sweet as the kisses painted over the softness of his throat, how new it felt to be held with such possessive and patient insistence within Jos’ familiar grasp. From the first moment Jos shut his office door and closed the distance between Francis’ startled amusement and the loveliness of that rare small smile of promise, Francis knew he was at a marvelous disadvantage, playing Jos’ game and only guessing at the rules.

It started without words, only the parting of his lips as Jos skipped pleasantries for pleasure, stirring Francis with little more than the gentle brush of fingers over his cheek as they kissed. Francis closed his eyes and swallowed the need to ask what he had done to warrant such affection, what had moved his darling to come to him like this, sweeping into his office with something that looked like happiness hiding the corners of his eyes and the tilt of his smile. He wanted to solve he mystery behind Jos’ need to tumble Francis to his couch in the middle of the afternoon so he could take every opportunity to have it again and again.  Jos was so terribly irresistible when he was like this, commanding and full of obvious desire and hidden intentions, but Francis was willing to wait to understand the reasons why because there was also something terribly irresistible in not knowing.  Francis let Jos tell him his secrets as he would, trusted in the hands that undressed and the mouth that pressed hotly to his ear but still said nothing more than his name in the shape of a demanding sigh.

Francis couldn’t remember the last time he had spent so much time kissing and kissing and kissing some more, stripped almost entirely bare but doing nothing more than kissing and touching, taking all the hours of the afternoon to play at romance that left his lips stinging and swollen red. It was enough to make even the most practiced peddler of lust feel drunk.  Jos was warm beneath him, the cradle of his thighs hot from the constant slow drag of Francis’ hips as he tried to get closer and closer, welcoming the hands that moved so deliberately over the dip of his waist and the slope of his ass, fingertips sliding over the cotton of the briefs he’d stolen from Jos’ drawer that morning. 

There was something deliciously naughty in the tease of Jos’ cock pressed hard against his stomach, kept from him by a single layer of clothing that Jos seemed in no rush to be rid of in his pursuit of kissing Francis breathless and desperate. Francis wanted to demand that Jos always touch him like this, like he couldn’t get enough. He wanted to murmur in his ear that he would always give Jos all that he wished to take, that he could have as many afternoons of sweet, lust-drunk affection as he desired, but he left his tongue quiet in Jos’ mouth and listened instead to excited rush of Jos’ pulse beneath his fingers.

With the gentle scoring of teeth down the long line of Jos’ throat, with the thumb and finger that brushed and pinched nipples and marked trails on a broad chest, Francis reciprocated the possessiveness of the hand that slipped beneath his underwear to splay hot and firm over his ass. He returned the faint happiness in Jos’ sighs, spilling quiet, encouraging moans into countless kisses as the urgency built and his cock was flush between the tangle of their rocking bodies. He let Jos keep his sly silence as he spread his legs further and welcomed the touch between his thighs, indulged in the mystery until he felt a single fingertip curl inside, circling and teasing. 

“Such a lack of propriety, my darling.” Francis murmured, sucking the hollow of Jos’ throat, pressing his tongue to the answering rumble of low mocking laughter.

“As if you know the meaning of the word.” Jos said with lips still wet from Francis’ kiss, eyes heavy lidded and gaze somehow gentle even as the finger slipped further inside, stretching him slowly. 

Smiling, Francis reached for Jos’ face, cupping his hand around that lovely expression of taunting adoration. “Of course I do, my sweet little hypocrite.” 

“Hypocrite?” Jos asked lowly, one hand tracing the contours of Francis’ arms while the other explored the curve of his ass, spreading him ever wider. 

“Indeed.” Francis brushed his thumb over the threat of a scowl, touched his lips to the cut of a firm jaw and the spot that never failed to make Jos tremble and groan before pushing his hand between their too warm bodies to slip beneath cotton and tease the slick head of Jos’ cock. ”Always protesting when I wish to have such a personal meeting, denying me and demanding that I use all my powers of persuasion to convince you that I am a much better use of your time than Excel.”  Jos scoffed, licking the edge of his smirk while Francis smiled and stroked his cock. “And yet here you are, my wonderful little liar, so surprisingly desperate for me that I’m manhandled and stripped naked with _nary a hello, Francis, how was your da_ y _?”_

Francis watched Jos, a little in love with his lack of shame or repentance in the eyes watched him in return, entirely aroused by the sound of mocking laughter broken over a groan as Francis smiled wickedly and pushed against Jos’ teasing fingers, taking them deeply inside. He liked the softness of Jos’ face in the afternoon sun, the way he kept his gaze on Francis and Francis alone, like the way he curled his touch in Francis’ body and sighed when Francis moaned, and liked most of all the familiar dry affection in Jos’ words.

“Hello, Francis. How was your day?” 

Francis smothered his smugness with a laughing kiss, arching away from the greedy press of Jos’ fingers in search of the slip of his tongue and the heat of his cock, crawling up his chest to lick at Jos’ wonderfully content smile. 

“My day was entirely predictable and then at once entirely surprising,” Francis whispered against Jos’ still parted lips, raising his hips to help Jos finally rid him of the last of his clothing. He settled over Jos’ still covered cock, knees spread over firm thighs as Jos spread him open with the splay of his marvelously large hands. Francis wriggled his hips, swaying in Jos’ lap and running his hands over Jos’ chest, adoring the soft skin of his stomach and the vulnerable flutter in his throat as he bent closer to kiss his forehead and ask, “And how was yours, my love?” 

“Memorable,” Jos said with such rough sincerity Francis feels it twist in his heart even though he has no idea what could have happened on a Wednesday afternoon that had been like any other until Jos locked his door and smiled at him. 

“I’m intrigued,” Francis confessed, continuing to rock his hips into the splay of Jos’ hands and over the ridge of his cock, still so near he could feel the flushed warmth of Jos’ cheeks and share his breath. “Tell me.” 

“Later.” Jos promised, gaze still serious and smile still sweet. Jos kissed him, kissed him with such tenderness Francis stilled within the embrace and decided the reason why didn’t matter because there was no mistaking the meaning of such a kiss. 

“Jos,” Francis said roughly, stroking his hair and brushing his lips over the faint line of a scar, sighing as he was urged up so the body beneath his could also become entirely naked. He closed his eyes, trading the vision of Jos slicking his cock for returning such a devastating kiss, gentle fingers framing Jos’ face as he tried to tell his own poorly kept secrets with the touch of his tongue and the heat of his mouth, sighing his happiness as took his cock in hand and pushed inside his ready, wanting body so slowly it was almost cruel. 

“Later,” Jos repeated thickly and then arched his hips to drive his cock in so deeply, his thighs were flush against Francis. 

Francis moaned and raked his nails down Jos arms as he sat up in his lap, clenching around the stretch and burn that thrilled him in turn with the open expression of Jos’ desire and the lingering tendrils of dangerous affection that if ever severed would break his heart. He splayed his hands on Jos’ chest, bracing himself as he licked his kiss bitten lips and began to move, riding Jos with long, slow strokes. 

“It is always important to stick to the agenda,” Francis teased, brushing thumbs over Jos’ nipples and over the lines of his collarbone, enjoying the sight of Jos enjoying being spoiled. He rolled his hips in wicked little circles, working Jos’ cock as Jos sucked Francis fingers into his mouth and and scored his teeth down Francis’ palm. Francis thought he might be willing to put of “later” indefinitely if Jos kept pushing into him so intently, kept kissing the soft skin of his wrist, kept stroking the insides of his thighs and teasing the underside of his cock with fleeting touches while Francis moved over him.  

“Yes,” Francis moaned, “All good things in your time, my love.”

Jos made a rough, hot noise that curled Francis’ toes and had him snapping forward to kiss him roughly, a messy, filthy embrace to go with the sudden slap of Jos’ hands against his ass, urging the abandonment of afternoon soft and slow. Francis obliged, sinking his teeth into Jos’ moaning mouth and riding him harder, fingers digging into the slope of Jos’ arms while Jos’ cock thrust inside ever faster. Jos touched the place where their bodies joined, teasing Francis while Francis took his cock with a single finger tracing the way he spread open and wide. Francis sucked on Jos’ tongue and kissed him deeply, made desperate by the intimacy of Jos’ stare, the wantonness of his touch, the unexpected neediness of their fuck. 

The couch creaked and his knees sank into the cushions as Jos shifted upwards, sitting up with Francis in his lap, cock full and flush inside and arms curled around Francis’ back. Francis sighed and rocked his hips, tangling his fingers in Jos’ hair to match the sticky, too warm tangle of their bodies. Jos stared at him, blinking slowly as Francis stroked his hair from his forehead and admired how green his eyes were when lit by the evening sun and desire. 

“You are so lovely, my darling,” Francis whispered, heat spreading between his legs as Jos curled a hand around his cock and stroked, knuckles brushing his stomach with each pass because they were so close there was no room for anything but touch and taste. Francis kissed Jos’ tiny, breathy smile and softy confessed, “No matter the reason for this, I feel so very fortunate.” 

“Be quiet, Francis,” Jos murmured roughly, eyes falling closed as he stole Francis’ words with another kiss and stroked him faster, pushing inside with sharp little thrusts. 

Francis gave himself over to Jos’ attentions, thighs shaking and breath breaking over sighs and moans, fingers tightening in Jos’ hair as he listened to short gasps and welcomed the press of a cock so deeply inside. Once more, Jos kissed him and kissed him, as though they were at the beginning and not moments away from the end of pleasure, taking time to wring happiness from Francis’ voice, swallowing his sounds of desire and twining their tongues together. He held Jos between his hands and within the clench of his body, held back all the words he wished to say to describe how Jos was his favorite masterpiece, a work of art that never failed to stir him, that he wanted to spend endless days exploring the sharp lines of his mind and the shades of his heart. 

“Jos,” Francis called softly, slurring the name against Jos’ lips as he came with a hot, thick rush of surprise, staining Jos’ hand and his chest.

He thought he heard the answer of his own name murmured between their mouths when Jos’ nails sunk into his back and hips arched into him so roughly he hoped he would wake in the morning and still feel the memory of Jos’ need for him. Jos head titled back, lips wet and swollen from too many kisses, cheeks red and flush, skin mottled by desire and lit gold by the sun when Francis held his face between shaking hands and watched him come undone. 

Francis kissed him quiet, kissed him until bruising fingers gentled and stroked up the curve of his spine to toy with the ends of his hair. Francis kissed Jos, spoiled him with sweetness, a much deserved reward for the happiness of an afternoon of surprises. He kissed him until Jos turned his face to kiss the palm of the hand that still held him dearly, hiding his smile from Francis’ searching gaze. 

Jos cleared his throat and speared Francis with a look of such open affection and expectation it was enough to still anything he might have wished to say, moment given over entirely to the soft confidence and warmth of Jos’ smile. 

“I told you today was memorable,” Jos said quietly, lowering himself to the couch with Francis in his art.

“My darling?” Francis murmured, settling his chin on Jos’ chest and listening to the steady beating of his heart, fingers reaching out to trace the shape of a smile he wasn’t sure he deserved. 

Jos kissed his fingers and closed his eyes, “Three years ago today you first signed your name next to mine and the Blue Tulip became ours.”

Francis smiled and pressed his lips over such a secretly, wonderfully, romantic heart, whispering, “You will always be the best decision I ever made, my love.”


End file.
